Espial
by pink.chocolate.unicorn
Summary: Then there was the newest thing Castiel learned; his wings were incredibly sensitive and produced a feeling more arousing than when Dean touched him anywhere else on his body. (Slash. Destiel. Wing fic/kink. Pretty much PWP. Rated M; mature language and content.) Complete.


_(A/N: Rated **M** for mature content and language._

_This was a completely random thing that popped in my head. I don't know what to make of it being my first actual/full-on Supernatural story (well, the first _published_ Supernatural story), but there it is. Most of the time when I read a wing!kink story (yeah, I admit it), Dean is the one asking to see them. I didn't do an exhaustive search, but I didn't find any stories where _Castiel_ was the instigator to the whole thing..__. There's really no more plot to it than that.  
><em>

_Warnings: MalexMale slash. Smut/PWP. Language. Wing/feather kink. (For those that care/need to know: Dean be the bottom.)_

_Enjoy! :))_

* * *

><p>There weren't many accidents when it came to Castiel's relationship with Dean Winchester (or his younger brother, Sam, even though that one had not progressed past friendshipcompanionship). Undoubtedly, when they occurred, though, Castiel was usually surprised and it made him that much more aware of how his bond with Dean had changed for the better.

All of these happy accidents seemed to center on his intimate relationship with Dean, though. Such as:

The fact that he knew how to 'speak dirty' (as Dean called it, his eyes wide, dark and full of happy surprise).

He hadn't known that telling Dean all his thoughts and plans once they got into a certain mood would be appealing, but he quickly found he enjoyed it as well. Dean did make the most intriguing sounds when he was on his back. Or his hands and knees. Or—Well, Dean made the most intriguing sounds when they were alone, regardless of his position or location. Once he learned Dean enjoyed hearing him say certain things, he spoke freely; he liked informing Dean about what he was going to do as much as Dean enjoyed hearing it. He thought it would ruin the thrill, or the surprise, but he'd been happy to find out he was wrong.

The fact that he was able to take the knowledge of human anatomy and use it to his (and Dean's) advantage.

An awkward conversation with Sam at the beginning of his involvement with Dean had the younger Winchester pushing his laptop across the scarred motel desk. Sam had merely shaken his head incredulously when Cas' questioned him about the words 'prostate' and 'frenulum', quickly leaving Cas to research alone in the room, cheeks still pink and shaking his head. By that point, electronics no longer stymied Castiel and he did indeed find many useful tips. He was a quick study and enjoyed the enthusiastic way Dean praised him. Numerous times. He even joined in Dean's breathless laughter, the sated Hunter praising The Mighty Google, when they were in a sweaty tangle a few hours later.

Then there was the newest thing he learned; his wings were incredibly sensitive and produced a feeling more arousing than when Dean touched him anywhere else on his body. (Even that spot right under his naval or behind his left knee.)

He tried to make sure he did basic grooming, mostly just so Dean wouldn't wrinkle his nose and push him into the bathroom and refuse further intimate contact until he no longer 'stunk like a freakin' skunk's asshole'. Dean didn't usually join him in the shower when that happened. So, he made it a habit.

And he'd occasionally use that alone time to groom his wings. It wasn't something he did often; not unless something had happened and he needed to gently rearrange some things (or clean them, thoroughly, of any contaminants). He generally didn't feel them or pay them much mind, they simply were.

Naturally, Dean chose one of those times to walk into their shared motel room, carelessly tossing his bag by the door and kicking off his shoes before flopping onto the unoccupied bed since it had the best TV viewing angle. He didn't seem to notice that he'd brushed up against one of Castiel's wings.

...But Castiel did.

The sensation made his eyes roll back, his toes curl, and a guttural moan to drift up his throat before he could control himself. He recovered quickly enough but he looked behind himself to stare at the space where his wings were, unseen by Dean, and blinked rapidly. That had been an interesting, and supremely surprising, reaction.

He noticed Dean was looking at him—leave it to Dean to notice _that_.

"What the hell, Cas?" Dean asked, smirking a little as he took in the angel's flushed face and lust blown eyes. Holy shit it was hot and he had no idea _what_ had caused the reaction. It certainly wasn't from him flopping on the bed and watching Fresh Prince reruns; he could admit there were limits to even his insane hotness—lounging, fully dressed, and laughing like an idiot to Will Smith one-liners was totally past that line. He cocked an eyebrow when Cas swallowed loudly and shrugged a shoulder.

"I was... grooming," Cas said, his voice rougher than usual. He wasn't too tied up in his own reaction not to notice the way Dean's body tensed in a familiar way and his tongue slowly dragged across his bottom lip. Yes, he was aware of Dean's 'thing' for his voice and he was pleased to notice he had Dean's full attention now. He shamelessly stared at Dean's mouth, watching the pointed pink tip disappear between lovely lips.

Dean nodded rapidly, aiming the remote in the vague direction of the TV and turning it off. Probably. He didn't really give a shit if it was still on or not. Not when Cas was looking at him like that. He threw the remote over his shoulder and crawled across the bed so he was closer to Cas. He was close enough to touch, but he didn't—not yet.

"Grooming, huh?" he murmured, looking around Cas and wondering if the wings were out. He couldn't see them—some sort of astral plane hidey-hole or angel mojo shit kept them invisible. Or something... He was fuzzy on the specifics, having completely zoned out when Cas started talking nerdy. But he had wondered; there had to be wings if they made shadows, right?

"Yes," Castiel said with a short nod. He didn't need to explain further, not with the way Dean's green eyes were flicking around him to where his wings would be. If Dean could see them, but he knew that wasn't possible. He groaned softly when Dean reached out and his fingers whispered across the fine feathers he couldn't see. Or feel, apparently, judging by the slightly confused expression Dean made. The effect was instant, _pleasureheatlust_ sizzling through and heating his entire body. He quickly stood and took a deep breath.

Dean jumped a little at the sudden move and sat back on his feet, unsure if he'd done something wrong. He was pretty sure wings were a no-no spot, probably one of the reasons angels kept them all secure and hidden. But Cas hadn't looked upset. No, he looked ready to come in his pants, not slap him away. He stayed quiet while Cas stood there, shoulders slightly hunched forward as he took noisy gulps of air, his body visible thrumming.

"I'm sor—"

"Don't apologize, Dean," Castiel murmured, his soft voice interrupting Dean as effectively as a shout. He turned his head quickly, pinning Dean with an intense look. "You've done nothing wrong."

"Uh, yeah, OK," Dean said slowly, staring into those darkened blue eyes. He felt his pulse kick up, both from that sexy gravely tone and the blatant eye-fucking he was being subjected to. Damn, he never could keep calm when Cas looked at him like that. Cas obviously wasn't angry, so that was something.

Yeah, he didn't see anything indicating he'd been an idiot, but still. He wasn't in the mood to argue, but he didn't know what was going on exactly either, so he shut up. He learned pretty quick that talking with Cas was either really fucking good or a disaster. And since this was looking to be headed into a Lifetime Movie moment, he kept his lips firmly together and waited Cas out.

Cas took another few deep breaths and finally got himself collected enough to get his wings to cooperate. He needed to see something... It took longer than he liked to gather his Grace and concentration to get his wings to manifest. When he heard soft fluttering followed a breathless gasp and he knew he'd been successful. A few dark, downy feathers were still settling on the cheap motel comforter when he turned around to face Dean again. He smiled when he saw Dean still had a hand outstretched, as if he meant to touch.

Oh, he really hoped Dean wouldn't get shy now. It usually made him feel warm and protective when he saw that side of Dean. But right now, he was feeling a little too much to exercise that sort of patience. Thankfully, Dean had let go a number of his insecurities in their time together and there was little hesitation. He smiled a little when he spread his wings with a thought and Dean couldn't stop staring, his mouth parted slightly.

"Wow," Dean murmured, his eyes continuously drawn back to the huge ass, dark wings behind Cas. They were—OK, he could admit it in his own brain... They were _fucking beautiful_. Magnificent, really, since he was going for the full dollar words because no one could hear it. His fingers twitched with the urge to feel and he was surprised when Cas slowly turned back around and stepped closer to the bed. And holy shit, those feathers _smelled_ good, too. And they gave off a... warmth. It was like laying in a sun beam. An erotic sunbeam that shot heat through his body and right to his dick.

Castiel chuckled and nodded his head slightly. He knew Dean hadn't meant to speak aloud, but he couldn't _not_ respond. "I'm glad you like them." He peeked over his shoulder when Dean groaned, the sound one of complete embarrassment instead of pleasure. "I'm pleased, Dean. Don't be embarrassed." When Dean made no further move to touch, he shuffled back a few more steps until the backs of his legs hit the edge of the bed. He stretched his wings a bit more, fully extending them until they almost touched the ceiling, fluttering them enough to get Dean's attention.

He looked back over his shoulder and saw he had Dean's full attention.

"Touch them, Dean." Castiel's voice was low, with subtle but unmistakable command. He relaxed and ruffled his wings a little again, letting one of them gently brush against Dean's body. It was _almost_ as good when Dean touched him, but not quite... He shuddered with pleasure, his next breath sticking in his throat, when Dean was quick to comply. He nearly purred when fingers gently carded through his soft feathers. His head bent forward without thought and he grunted at the feeling of Dean's hands on his wings—in his feathers.

Dean blinked, completely stunned by the command. Not that Cas was commanding (because let's face it, Cas could be a bossy little fucker—and that was especially true in the bedroom) but _what_ he was commanding. Of course, he didn't pause to think twice or ask if Cas was sure; no, like always, he immediately complied to his angel's wishes and buried his fingers into the feathers inches away from his face.

Castiel was disgruntled, for about 4 seconds, that none of this brethren had told him about this wonderful aspect of their wings. (And he was sure they knew—this was something he was sure he was last one to be discovering it.) Of course, that irritation puffed away in a dizzying heated flush when Dean continued his ministrations and his knees threatened to wobble when Dean's fingers gently dug in and _wriggled_. He very nearly cursed like Dean did when aroused.

Dean gently stroked down the long feathers at the top, pausing for a moment when Cas' breath hitched and he shuddered again. Of course, he knew Cas well enough to know those were good reactions. Really good reactions. He shuffled closer, scooting across the bed on his knees, and laid his whole hand on the top of Cas' wing and followed the edge downwards.

Everything was so damn soft, he probably couldn't have stopped touching unless Cas moved away. And maybe forced to pop off since it was likely he would've chased the angel around the room to cop a feel if Cas did try moving away. He smirked when Cas wobbled a little, his breathing speeding up and going all raspy.

"Like that?" he murmured, slowly rising up on his knees so he could press his chest against Cas' back and get closer to his ears. He heard Cas swallow as his dark, messy head bobbed in an enthusiastic nod. He nipped at Cas' neck as he slowly reached up and used both hands to smooth along the tops of the wings again. They quivered—actually fucking _quivered_— under his fingers at the same time Cas moaned aloud. He wished he knew more about wings... He nearly snorted when he made a mental note to check later.

"What's this?" Dean ran a finger down the firm, wide but still soft, tops of Cas' wings. The dark wings quivered again and he didn't think Cas was _able_ to speak, not since he was moaning again—the sound extra-exciting 'cause it was _Cas_—and swaying on his feet a little. His face was flushed and he had sweat beading along his hairline. And Dean had barely even touched him. Oh, holy hell, that was fucking hot. He decided to give Cas' brain a break, he'll get an anatomy lesson later, and just went back to stroking and touching feathers and the firm structure of Cas' wings.

Castiel couldn't get his voice or mouth to work past grunts and moans and thankfully Dean took the hint and stopped asking him things. Except when it came to naked, sex things. He nodded vigorously when Dean asked if he wanted his pants off. He was already shirtless, having not gotten around to that part yet. He shuddered pleasantly when Dean's hands rasped down his chest and belly, his fingers brushing over the thin trail of dark hair leading to the bulging seam of his jeans, and finally loosened his pants. He sighed with relief, his head flopped back to rest on Dean's shoulder with a shuddering moan, when the constricting pressure was immediately gone.

Dean chuckled softly, amused and turned on in equal parts by Cas' happy little sound once his pants were undone. He pressed himself along Cas' back and pushed at the jeans, gathering the little black cotton briefs as well, and pushing everything down to puddle at Cas' feet. He really _really_ liked the way Cas' back muscles flexed and his wings would gently flutter with each movement. He slid his hands back up Cas' front, settling over his nipples. Fuck, they were like little pebbles they were so hard and tight. He palmed them and leaned forward enough to gently mouth at the spot on Cas' back where his wings just started to emerge.

The effect was instantaneous and Dean was suddenly pinned, his back on the bed, and blinking with stunned surprise. He looked up and didn't know whether to chuckle or moan at the way Cas was hovering over him now, that intense Cas-the-Angel look on his face warring with the completely human look of naked lust. Well _fuck_. It pretty much resulted in an instant hard-on either way.

He groaned softly when Cas pressed down, pinning him and pressing their erections together in a hot, rolling shift of hips. He never panicked when Cas held him down and he practically melted into the bed under Cas' weight, his body tingling warmly at the familiar sensation.

"I can't guarantee my actions if you continue doing that," Castiel said in a low growl. The dual sensations of Dean's touch on his body _and_ wings had him nearly seeing white as pleasure sizzled through his body like a lightening strike. It was unlike anything he had ever felt before. He had very nearly torn Dean's pants from his body and entered him swiftly, without pause or the usual care. Thankfully, he was still (just barely) rational enough to stay those actions. He would not willingly hurt Dean.

Dean smirked and wriggled, trying to get his hands free. Cas only let one hand go and he immediately reached up and stroked down the closest wing, wiggling his fingers between the long feathers there. Cas groaned and pressed into him harder, his head dropping forward and his groans muffled against Dean's neck. He could feel the way Cas was tensed, his muscles jumping a little as he held himself in check. He wasn't sure how much willpower Cas had, and he wasn't sure how much longer his angel would be able to refrain from just flipping him over and mounting him like a horny beast.

Which would be totally cool with Dean.

"S'okay." Dean leaned up enough to nip at Cas' chin. "You could probably drill through concrete, man," he joked, rolling his hips upwards into Cas'. He was only half-kidding, though; Cas was hard as a damn rock and he was starting to soak through Dean's pants... It was really fucking hot but it couldn't be comfortable, though. "C'mon," he urged, wiggling his legs free until he could wrap them around Cas' hips. He smirked when Cas groaned again; Cas loved when he did that.

Castiel knew it was an abuse of powers to 'mojo' Dean naked and the required lubrication, but he didn't care at the moment. He felt incapable of moving from Dean's body and he knew Dean wouldn't be able to reach without getting up. He shifted only enough to slide a drippy hand down Dean's front and immediately swathed most of Dean's lower half with lube. It was messy but at least some of it got where it needed to be and he made quick work of working Dean open and getting everything slick.

"Fuck," Dean groaned when Cas immediately shoved two fingers into him. God, that would probably sting later but right now it felt fan-fucking-tastic and he tried to move into a better position but he was pinned under his angel's body. He could deal with that, especially when Cas started humping against his hip in little jerks and making that desperate little whiny sound. He could feel lube _every_where but he really didn't care, not when Cas was already pulling his fingers out and shifting him around like a rag doll until he was practically bent in half and positioned to the angel's liking.

Castiel took a moment to look at Dean with appreciation, both for the arousing image he made and in silent gratitude for being so willing and pliant. He huffed out a moan when Dean found a way to get his hands on the closest feathers and gently tug on them. "Dean, please," he pleaded in a choked voice.

"What?" Dean said, yanking on the feathers again. They were long and thick, probably the main feathers or some junk. He noticed Cas' body shudder and he felt the cock pressed against his twitch forcefully. That was hot, too, and there was really no way he wouldn't be doing that again. He went to caress along Cas' wings again but his hand was batted away and Cas pinned his hands down again. He raised an eyebrow. He didn't think he should be embarrassed about enjoying Cas' wings (_and_ the feathers—let's be honest) since Cas was ready to blow his load over a few strokes.

Castiel shook his head and took a moment to smash their mouths together. He realized he hadn't a chance to kiss Dean yet and he wanted to rectify that. He loved kissing Dean. Not only did it shut the Hunter up, but it made everything that much better. And once he found out that gooey warmth in his belly was a normal thing to feel, he enjoyed it, thoroughly, whenever he had the chance. He gentled the kiss a little when Dean whimpered, but it wasn't a pained whimper. He realized Dean was wriggling and writhing; their naked sweat-and-lube-slicked bodies were being neglected. Even now, he wanted to lean down and lick up the small puddle of pre-cum off of Dean's belly.

He didn't want to admit aloud that the delay was his goal; he had needed a moment to let the overwhelming sensations abate a little. Until he remembered he had started this... and Dean didn't really have a handle on patience.

"Dean, touch my wings." He gently released one of Dean's hands and as soon as Dean's focus was back on his wings, he lined himself up and pushed inside Dean.

He didn't expect the rush of sensation when Dean's fingers tightened around his feathers, but he should have.

He didn't expect the way Dean's whoosh of breath, let out in a long, loud moan, would feel ruffling against his heated skin and the soft feathers closest to the man, but he should have.

He really only had himself to blame for the mind-numbing, overload of pleasure that sizzled through him. The tight, slick feel of Dean surrounding him only intensified everything and he gasped out his orgasm seconds later.

"_Dude_," Dean muttered, trying not to sound completely bummed out (or judgmental), and just went limp. OK, so while the wing petting was hot, Cas coming like a freakin' overexcited fifteen-year-old as soon as he slid home was so not. He wiggled, the familiar warm sensation of Cas' cum trickling out was pleasant even though—

"Holy shit, Cas!" he grunted when the angel started to move, having caught his breath and apparently still in the mood for sexing because he was still hard. Fuck, that's never happened before. He'd thank god for angel stamina but it seemed a little sacrilegious... or something... considering.

Castiel merely grunted back, Dean's fingers buried in his feathers adding to the still tingling pleasure. "I'm pleased I didn't ruin it," he panted. He didn't usually get all sweaty and pant-y, but this entire thing was a new experience and he found himself enjoying it all very much. His eyes fluttered closed when Dean's fingers tightened in his feathers again and he blindly leaned down for a kiss, panting into Dean's mouth.

"Fuck no, Cas. You didn't," Dean managed to get out. Between moans, panting like a freight rain and the jarring jerks that made his breath hitch each time Cas snapped his hips and barreled into him, it was hard to talk. Which was overrated, anyway. He grabbed the back of Cas' head, his fingers tangling in his sweat-damp, messy hair instead of feathers this time, and pulled him into another teeth-and-tongue filled kiss. He pulled away only because he had to breath and he moaned when Cas' mouth latched onto his neck instead.

He was dimly aware of the rickety headboard slamming against the wall and he kinda hoped Sam was out getting food. It was fun to tease his brother but it quickly lost it's fun when Sammy got fed up and gave him the kicked-puppy look. (And it was down-right cruel when Cas would join his brother in giving him The Look, his angel feeling bad for Sam even though he was being a big ol' whiny cry-baby.) He arched with a moan that should be in a feakin' porno when Cas shifted his hips.

"Dean—"

Dean nodded, knowing exactly what Cas was asking with just that one breathed syllable. Oh yeah, he was close. He made another porny sound when Cas grabbed his ankles and slid him up his thighs and continued, his hips doing that sinful rolling thing that made Dean's eyes roll to the back of his head and his toes curl. The angle was perfect and Cas' cock hit just the right spot every damn time he pushed in _and_ pulled out.

"Fuck," he moaned, no longer giving a shit who heard him. Another desperate 'Dean' had him nodding again and Cas' relieved exhale washed over his sweaty skin and he shuddered.

Castiel slid his hands down Dean's (adorably bowed) legs and grabbed his hips in a tight grip. He forced his eyes open when he felt the first fluttery-tightening sensation around his cock and watched as Dean came. That was probably the best part... watching Dean's mouth open, his eyebrows pinch together and the surprised look of blissful pleasure pinking Dean's face and body was something he enjoyed watching every time. Unfortunately, it rarely failed in nudging him that little bit over the edge and he orgasmed right after Dean stopped gasping and shaking.

He nearly wept with relief when pleasure washed over him, again, and he felt like he usually did—sated and softening at last. He collapsed in a boneless heap onto Dean's chest, his arms splayed out at his sides and his face smooshed pleasantly in the hollow of Dean's neck. He had never felt so... wiped-out afterwards. Now he knew why Dean got all drowsy and adorable.

"'M adorable," Dean mumbled in agreement, lazily stroking his fingers along Cas' ribs.

Castiel chuckled and nuzzled Dean's sweaty neck, humming softly in agreement. He liked these quiet moments when he could call Dean adorable and not get poked at or hear Dean make self-deprecating comments. He managed to get his arms to cooperate and he wrapped them around Dean as best he could. He was starting to dislike this groggy state...

"Aw," Dean pouted, his hands feeling around Cas' back. No feathers, just sweat-sticky skin. Which was OK... but he was hoping to give Cas' feathers one last fondle. The loose ones scattered on the bed (and probably the carpet) glowed dully in the single lamp-light by the bed. He picked one up and considered tickling Cas with it, but he didn't think he could handle an angel-feather-induced giggle fit right now. Did it make him a total girl if he wanted to keep one? He ran his thumb along the middle and tucked it under his pillow.

Castiel yawned and nodded. "It takes quite a bit of effort to keep them visible, Dean. At the last moment, I... lost my focus."

"'Cause I'm too sexy... too sexy for your wings," Dean sing-songed. He rolled his eyes when Cas merely cocked his head and made a soft sound of confusion. It was tempting (and usually fun) to educate the angel, but he really didn't have much interest in this one at the moment. He shrugged and managed to get his entire body around Cas' still limp form. It was kinda weird to see Cas all sleepy and gooey after a vigorous romp. Those wings must have been something...

Castiel nodded, humming pleasantly. "They were." He laughed softly when Dean's face pinched, apparently he hadn't intended to speak aloud again. He let Dean tug him close and ran his still-tingling fingers over Dean's arm. "I don't think that will be a regular occurrence, but... Thank you, Dean."

"Anytime, Cas," Dean murmured, smoothing a hand through Cas' completely wrecked hair. Yeah, it was fun but he'd probably die if Cas whipped out his wings every time.

Still... There were definitely worse ways to go.


End file.
